Parades are often forlorn events. The pomp and circumstance that brings forth the loud serenade of trumpets, drums and cadence of disparate groups; the sequence of human colonnades marching to the beat of rhythmic blares where medals gleam in the glint of sunlight’s twilight; and when the speeches end and the parade that fades leaves but for the leaflets that once announced of its impending arrival, the hearts that once fluttered in anticipation of the marching band that lost its footing may but be a glimmer of tomorrow’s hope.

Parades celebrate, and the participants engage the public eye to put on a show of appreciation, but do they voluntarily come together, or are they merely compensated workers ordered to appear? And when once the parade fades, what happens to those left behind, of the grieving widows and children left orphaned, and the pinning of medals that sang the mournful hollow of a priceless life?

Other lives march on; it is the forgotten ones that inhabit an earth that continues on in haunting groups of voiceless sorrow, for years on end without the recognition noted but for that singular day on the parade grounds, where glory once revived and then soon forgotten. Much of life is like that, isn’t it?

Like a parade that is put on, lasts for a day, or perhaps merely a part thereof, and then soon to be forgotten except for memories that are seared with a grimace and graceless utterances of voices once remembered and now merely a fading vestige, if that. What was the fanfare for? Do we even remember? What was said in the speech now faded but for glory’s once grand applause? Do we even care?

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who suffer from a medical condition, where the medical condition begins to prevent the Federal or Postal worker’s attempt to continue his or her career because the progressively worsening medical condition itself is preventing one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s job — the end of one’s career may be likened to the parade that fades.

That sense of belonging; that feeling that life’s cadence included you in the marching band of the colorful parade; of being part of a team, with a sense of coherence and purpose; but like all parades, the day’s end ultimately comes. Whether you are under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset, the sinking feeling that the parade that fades may mean that there is no longer the trumpet’s blare or the drumbeat of life’s cadence is simply a fear within that does not reflect reality.

Tomorrow, the sun will still shine and the birds will yet sing; the grounds will still be there, and preparing, formulating and filing an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, to be filed with the U.S. Office of Personnel Management is merely changing the venue of where the next parade will be held, thus replacing the parade that fades at the end of this day alone.

That is the question, isn’t it? In this monetary-based system of thought, we always ask that one, and the follow-up: What was the price paid, and was it worth it? Are the two questions and issues divisible, or are they inseparably linked like Siamese twins sharing a vital organ?

As to the first, the question can encompass an entanglement of intricate complexities that flow from the second — when, in fact, it is a simple question requiring merely a fundamental answer. We ask first, What is the price paid?

We begin to hem and haw and hesitate: Well, it was really beautiful and I’ve always wanted it and it was worth it because it brought back the warmth of childhood memories and…. Once such explanations and justifying delineations occur, you have conflated the second issue into the first; for, the first requires a simple and straightforward answer: the dollar-amount; a monetarily-objective response; a unit from a designated numerical set, etc. Thus: “I bought X”. “How much did you pay for it?” “It was priced at X-dollars, and I purchased it for Y-amount”.

Then, the inevitable follow-up: “Was it worth it?” It is this second question that evokes a conflation with the first; for, such a query is not so simple inasmuch as it involves psychology, emotion, rational and irrational underpinnings, and the subjective encompassment of often-unexplainable attachments.

The worth of a thing may not parallel the price of it; for, what what paid for it can spread throughout a spectrum of differentiating circumstances: Perhaps one got a bargain; maybe the seller didn’t realize the true market value and vastly underpriced it; or, it may be that a person needed to do a “quick sale” because he needed the cash, and was willing to part with it at a basement-bargain price, etc.

Take the following hypothetical: At an auction, a painting is bid upon. It is a rather unassuming piece that depicts a woman, fully clothed, with a slight smile. It is not an exceptional painting, and is expected to be auctioned off for about a thousand dollars. The bidding begins, and very quickly, it becomes clear that primarily 2 individuals are vying for the painting — one, a very wealthy individual; the other, a middle-class bloke barely able to meet his monthly debts. The bidding exceeds the expected price to be gained by the auctioneer, which makes him happy beyond description.

This is the cake that dreams are made of for the auction house that expects very little: Two or more individuals who are willing to pay a price exceeding the monetary worth of the item. After a series of back-and-forth bids, the middle-class bloke wins the bid — at $20,000.00. When later asked about it, he replies: “The painting reminds me of my mother.” Bankrupt and considered a fool by everyone in the neighborhood, he nevertheless feels for the rest of his life that it “was worth it”.

Now, turn the hypothetical around and let’s say that the wealthy man won the bidding. When asked about it, he simply stated: “Oh, I was just bored. I plan on trashing the painting when I get home, but it was exciting to just rob someone else of his desire and pleasure.” In either case, was the price paid “worth” it?

That is the question that Federal and Postal workers have to answer when determining whether or not to file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits from the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether the Federal or Postal employee is under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset — the price of one’s health; whether it is worth continuing in a job or career that persists upon a track to demoralize, deteriorate and destroy one’s health; or, whether a reduced income at the price of being able to focus upon one’s health may be “worth” it.

Preparing, formulating and filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through OPM itself has a price — of the long wait, the complex administrative process and the stress of waiting; but like the painting being bid upon at the auction house, it is always the balancing of the price paid and the worth of the gain that must be considered when preparing, formulating and filing for OPM Disability Retirement benefits.

The Age of Science is upon us. No longer do we believe that the moon is a god in the orb of heavenly spheres; that incantations will solve problems of health or bad vibes; and one’s mood is not a matter of environment or upbringing, but can be resolved with a pill or an electric shock wave.

The weather is confined to discussions about carbon emissions and global warming by man-made intransigence, and never about gods controlling the destiny of ill-temper because they became angry with an individual; and medical conditions cannot be exorcised by mere religious fervor, anymore, and to do so when a child is involved may end one up in jail for abuse and neglect. One’s mood can still be influenced by one’s upbringing; the weather can sometimes impact moods, dog’s howling and animals acting skittishly; and medical conditions – well, they have became the sole province of science.

There is no room left for hobbits, goblins or fairytales left to the imagination; perhaps that is what is deemed “progress” and the expunging of antiquated horrors. One need only to review the medical procedures of yesteryear to thank whoever for the advances made in modernity – of painful procedures and implements now banished; of even simple theories that used “blood-letting” in order to balance the humors that went out of kilter.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who – regardless of what “science” says about mood, weather and medical conditions – have been impacted by all three: one’s mood still seems impacted by the weather on various days; and the weather seems to exacerbate medical conditions, whether psychological or physical; and in a cycle of effects, the medical conditions seem to impact upon one’s moods, it never seems to be the whole solution that the surgical knife or the doctor’s pill resolves everything. Somehow, there always is a suspicion that there is “more to it”.

Looking at filing a Federal Disability Retirement is somewhat like the interaction between mood, weather and medical conditions; it is not the “only” or even the “ultimate” solution to life’s problems, but is merely a vehicle and component in a complex set of life’s “issues” that may need to be accessed. In order to do that, it is necessary to prepare, formulate and file an effective Federal Disability Retirement application, and it may well be that such a filing is ultimately impacted or influenced by one’s mood, the weather and certainly the extent of one’s medical condition and one’s inability to perform all of the essential elements of one’s job. Go figure.

Every age has its feel of fabric of the times; in ages past, the woven loom of quiet hamlets with curls of smoke slowly rising from the warmth of the hearth; in others, the tension wrought at the dawn of the industrial revolution, where the ways of old and the textiles of handiworks would soon be replaced by the machines of progress.

In modernity, there is the tactile sense of restlessness, of communities splintered, where we are told that the inevitable march of progress is but for the dawn of an age of leisure, as each technological innovation will afford us greater time with out families. Somehow, however, we are busier than ever. Not more productive; not even happier; just a frenzy of activity to plug the holes of the dam which continually creaks with new fissures. That is the tapestry of modernity; of a world which fits man into a cauldron of machines beyond the want of age.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who, in this day of demands beyond human capacity and tolerance, suffer from a progressively debilitating medical condition, such that the medical condition prevents the Federal or Postal worker from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s Federal or Postal job, there dawns a time when filing for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management becomes a necessity.

Often, the upcoming fight seems like the “same old” repetition of confronting the inevitability of the progressive decline reflected in the age of technology, as bureaucracy and administrative obstacles form a conspiracy of stopping every avenue of attempted accommodations. Life is tough; life in modernity is tougher, still. The tapestry of modernity belies the times of yore when communities cared and banded together, replaced by the coldness of rights, benefits and entitlements.

OPM Disability Retirement benefits are there to compensate for the Federal or Postal employee who “paid the price” and now has a disability which prevents one from continuing in his or her chosen field; and the tapestry of modernity allows for that very attainment of necessity, in order for the Federal or Postal employee to move on into the next phase of civilization’s promise of hope for a future of uncertainty.

The complexity of the human condition makes one wonder about the capacity, endurance and ability of this animal who has created such a dysfunctional, technologically sophisticated universe.

From genetic predetermination of uncontrollable susceptibility to behavior patterns, diseases and addictive personalities, to environmental factors which condition and influence; what we eat; the wide spectrum of tolerance (or intolerance) to stress; medication regimens which would otherwise knock out an elephant, to modern prosthetic devices which makes the Six Million Dollar Man of the 70s a mere skeleton of technological innovation; and where this post-information age of constant data and stimuli bombardment is a never-ending stream of stresses; through it all, it is a wonder that Man is able to function at all.

But functionality is a paradigm which possesses subtle distinctions despite the concealment of appearances; it is always the irony of life that, after the havoc of a murderous rampage, the little old lady next door always responds to the query of the reporter and says, “And he was such a nice young man…”

The veil of appearances; the brave face we put on; like the Noh Mask which alters expression depending upon the angle, perspective, light and vantage point of the viewer, the inner reality of turmoil in every man passing on a single street, betrays the reality of cosmetic surfaces. And, too, that is the problem for the Federal employee and the U.S. Postal worker who wants to — nay, needs to — file for Federal Disability Retirement benefits through the U.S. Office of Personnel Management, whether under FERS, CSRS or CSRS Offset.

Through it all, the “others” have been playing the same “game” of enduring through concealment. Bizarre behaviors sometimes betray; or, perhaps, it is some rumors of over-drinking; or the unexplained and unexplainable cuts and the bald spot from pulling and scratching; whatever the evidence, they can all be glossed over with a smile and a furtive glance to other and parallel universes. But for the Federal and Postal worker who truly suffers from a medical condition, such that the medical condition impacts and prevents one from performing one or more of the essential elements of one’s positional duties, the time has come when wonderment and reality clash in an intergalactic battle of proportionality and justice, where mind, body and spirit can no longer lie to the inner soul of one’s essence. For, ultimately, it is that “soul” which hurts and suffers.

When we lie to others, it merely allows for the medical condition to fester and progressively deteriorate; when we lie to ourselves, it damages and destroys the inner character of one’s essence. That is the epic tragedy of reality in a universe concocted with virtual devices, and therein lies the true lie of that which we desire, and it is indeed a wonder that we are able to function at all in that unending maze of cacophonous laughter we deem to be the madness of society.

They come under unexpected circumstances, in inconvenient durations, and by the twilight of moon when sleep is required but the sought-after lull of morning sunrise interrupts despite the caverns of echoing remembrances of memories once savored, but like wisps of willows floating effortlessly down valleys of dreamy cascades, we reach out to them in the middle of the night, only to grasp at the emptiness in darkness surround.

Poetry was once upon the lips of strangers, as the Elizabethan Era represented the golden age of linguistic fervor; but like all such resurgences of purported renaissance, the period lasted but for a moment in history, as epochs of fallen dinosaurs became fodder for oil slicks and Disney movies.

It is often in the very contrast of opposites that clarity comes to the fore; and thus does the mundane and the boredom of constancy do a disservice, by maintaining a semblance of normalcy and unfettered favor. When does that moment arrive? Often, it is in the midst of pain that we see through the hypocrisy of that solemn friendship; and in the endurance of suffering, the truth behind the facade of relational contentment.

For Federal employees and U.S. Postal workers who finally come to a realization that the “mission of the agency” is not quite as important as one’s own health and well-being, it is often almost too late, but never quite so. Federal Disability Retirement benefits are there for Federal and Postal employees who can no longer perform all of the essential elements of one’s positional duties, due to a medical condition — whether physical, psychiatric, or a mixed emotional combination of both — which prevents them from doing so.

The problem is one of self-flagellation; of thinking that to file for Federal Disability Retirement is to somehow have let others down, become a turncoat, or have failed in the eyes of “them”, as their expectations have not been met and the crestfallen expressions demean and devalue the efforts expended thus far.

Clarity comes in small caches of catatonic canopies of cornered consciousness; when it does come, one must grab it and never let go. Society always tries to bamboozle; but when the Federal or Postal employee faces the stark choice between the greater organism of harm, or the lesser evil in favor of one’s health and future security, that rare moment of clarity must be decided upon within a wink of time, before the door of perceptual horizons slams shut again, and you are left forever in that darkness of ignorance where shrieking gnomes are tortured by day and flesh-eating gargoyles creep about through the night.

Seven False Myths about OPM Disability Retirement

1) I have to be totally disabled to get Postal or Federal disability retirement.
False: You are eligible for disability retirement so long as you are unable to perform one or more of the essential elements of your job. Thus, it is a much lower standard of disability.

2) My injury or illness has to be job-related.
False: You can get disability even if your condition is not work related. If your medical condition impacts your ability to perform any of the core elements of your job, you are eligible, regardless of how or where your condition occurred.

3) I have to quit my federal job first to get disability.
False: In most cases, you can apply while continuing to work at your present job, to the extent you are able.

4) I can't get disability if I suffer from a mental or nervous condition.
False: If your condition affects your job performance, you can still qualify. Psychiatric conditions are treated no differently from physical conditions.

5) Disability retirement is approved by DOL Workers Comp.
False: It's the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) the federal agency that administers and approves disability for employees at the US Postal Service or other federal agencies.

6) I can wait for OPM disability retirement for many years after separation.
False: You only have one year from the date of separation from service - otherwise, you lose your right forever.

7) If I get disability retirement, I won't be able to apply for Scheduled Award (SA).
False: You can get a Scheduled Award under the rules of OWCP even after you get approved for OPM disability retirement.